


The Final Sun Has Set

by CAPULETGERARD



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Artist Gerard Way, Awkward Gerard Way, Bad Decisions, Blood and Injury, Cigarettes, Drug Use, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multi, My First AO3 Post, Oh My God, Recreational Drug Use, Resolved Sexual Tension, Revenge Era, Romantic Angst, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Shy Frank Iero, Smoking, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAPULETGERARD/pseuds/CAPULETGERARD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reckless, careless and on the verge of death- Nova steps into Gerard's life, throwing them both off balance. Nova lives for the highs, the sex, and mainly the drugs. Gerard is the polar opposite to Nova, but she finds a strong interest in him- even though she thought she could never feel romantically and sexually attracted to someone, at the same time. It couldn't ever be the same for either of them again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Sun Has Set

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first fic on here, and i hope you like it!! It was heavily inspired by the song Molly by MSI, check it out!!  
> sorry for any spelling mistakes, i will try to update regularly!!  
> enjoy & leave me kudos and stuff <3

A dark room, three strangers and 4 anonymous pills.  
What was this, some sort of psychological test?  
I've let myself down.  
Pick the red pill...pick the blue pill...  
Bullshit.  
I've let myself down again, haven't i?  
I etched my fingertips across the pale concrete floor i was sat cross-legged on, hardly aware of the people around me, enclosed in a black-walled death trap.   
I was sweating. Panic and fear distorted my head and filled my lungs.  
I couldn't make eye contact with anyone.  
The dusty light scintillated in and out of focus, like a manic switching a flashlight on and off in my eyes.  
I could hear and feel the ringing in my ears contaminating my head with pressure, anamorphic voices pricked my senses and haunted my brain.  
Bullshit.   
This is all bullshit.   
I've let myself down.  
I've let myself d-

"Nova?"  
I snapped back into the real world.  
"what the fuck is your problem, Nova? Were you even listening to any of that?"  
I pulled my spine up straight and took a long gratifying breath.  
My black leather jacket stuck to my neck and trapped the little amount of hair i had under my collar.  
I hesitated, with eager eyes pondering my reply.  
"no. No i wasn't, i feel weird." i choked out, barely able to speak. I couldn't focus on the stranger's face, i'd convinced myself i'd never seen it. But i had.   
"i said that we're all gunna take one of these i got from my cousin, and see what happens"   
I focused on remembering a name. A name, one name. Three names?   
It all came back.  
"sorry Jack, i can't" my lips quit on me so i ended up muttering.  
"are you kidding me? We promised we would do this!" another voice threatened me in a blind rage from the other side of the circle. We were all sat solemnly, blank faced in the middles of a small, badly lit room in the basement of Jack's apartment. It was eerie, and the perfect place for drug addicts to recreate. I had known Jack for 2 years through being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
And that's how i became a drug addict. As an unemployed, depressed 17 year old with a desire for sex, drugs and rock and roll, it became second nature.   
I was too high to argue. I pulled my lanky limbs off the cold floor and started for the debilitated old stairs leading to the way out of this shithole.   
"where're you going?" a slightly slurred voice rang in my head, compelling a wave of pain in my forehead.  
"out" i stuttered back.  
"don't you fucking come back until you've sorted yourself out, you hear me?" Jack exclaimed back, in a low secretive voice. His light hair and hollow cheeks were defined in the shadowy light. He didn't look 19.  
"i think it's you that needs to sort yourself out" i deadpanned back. That was a mistake.  
"don't you fucking talk to me like that, you bitch" jack hurled half a glass bottle at me, which had been previously shattered, thin shards like razor blades forcing themselves into my leg. I cried out as the bottle fell and smashed on the floor. Crimson ribbons formed on my leg and seeped from the deep holes which had been created. Blood trickling down my leg, i hopped up the rest of the steps, weeping and wincing at the pain.   
I felt my head begin to feel lighter as i grabbed the walls for support, going straight for the back exit.  
I fell out into the darkness, deathly silence seemed to calm my senses. My legs were cold, barely supported by the thin tights and jean shorts i was wearing. I shuffled down towards the main road, in hope of aid or maybe a cigarette. Warm glow of late night shops and bars rescued me for a minute, separating me from the fear and terror of being alone and in need. Various people sauntered past me, and i kept my head down. I could sort myself out at home, i didn't need help, plus i had god knows what running through my veins. Even though it had worn off enough to make me aware of the fact i was bleeding for what felt like forever, it still wasn't safe. I'd need a few days on diuretics, and probably some aspirin.   
I abruptly stopped in my tracks and puked all down a graffitied wall. I knew it would happen, just when. It usually did. I leant my upper back on the wall, avoiding my puke and the various scattered cigarette butts on the floor. I sighed, and watched misty breath form in a cloud and evaporate. I had forgotten it was so cold, it was the least of my worries. I looked down on my leg and it looked like i had been slaughtered. Blood covered my leather boots and ran up and down my pale legs. I looked like something from a horror film, i thought. Or maybe even a pale grunge tumblr blog. I realised i was laughing and crying at the same time. I must have looked like a manic out to get myself killed. I brushed my short, choppy, black hair out of my face and threw up again. It wasn't funny anymore. I felt like i was blacking out. I couldn't move, or cry for help. It felt like i was dying. I slid my back down the cold brick wall and hunched myself into a ball of leather and pale skin. I cried out, my leg burning and stinging in the chill of the night. My vision became blurry and disorientated.  
"holy fuck, are you alright?" i gradually managed to focus on a black haired man with green eyes and warm hands. He rushed over to me, avoiding the puke, and crouched at my side. I rolled my head towards him.  
"my leg" i whispered through tears.  
"oh my-oh my god. Okay. Um. I'm going to help you okay? I'm calling an ambulance." he was panicking and trying to find his phone in his jacket.  
"no no no you can't call them, i'm not clean" i spat out.  
"what do you mean?" a worried look set over his face which i could barely see.  
"i m-i mean...i'm really high" that was a lie, it was wearing off and i wasn't spinning again, plus i could see normally. Ish.  
"what did you take? You look awful..." he pushed my hair back as i threw up again, away from him.  
"uh...cocaine...." i was crying hard. It hurt so bad.  
"okay...uh...you can come in, we don't close at night" he reassured me and took my frozen hand.   
"thank you" i whispered and tried to smile.  
He pulled me to my feet and i couldn't even stand up. I almost fell again, but he caught me and picked me up bridal style. I watched his face as he tried to walk quickly to wherever we were going.   
"you're going to be fine, i'll sort your leg out. Frank can make you a coffee if he's not asleep" he half whispered to himself. He looked down on me.  
"i'm Gerard, who are you?" he sounded inquisitive. Not everyday you're carrying a weird looking girl you got off the street with a slight drug problem and eyeliner smudged everywhere to your workplace.   
"Nova" i smiled. "not the best of introductions"   
My sense of dark humour began to fill me up again, and i felt better in Gerard's arms for some reason.  
Orange light hit the bottom of Gerard's face and neck as we turned into a tattoo parlour.   
This was the first time i had seen his face properly, and i almost gawked at how hot he was. He had beautifully defined cheekbones and just the right amount of eyeliner. His straight black hair fell in locks across his pale face. He was almost as pale as me. His lips looked warm and rich. All i wanted to do was kiss him. He probably thought i was disgusting, though. Everyone does. Cocaine and promiscuity wasn't the best ice breaker.   
"clear the couch guys, Mikey get a bandage and a bowl of water. And a bucket" Gerard announced to the two guys sat on the couch and laughing at something in a magazine.  
Gerard put me down on the sofa and put my leg up on the table. The smaller tattooed boy looked at me in shock, not knowing what to say.  
"...hi?" i broke his trance on the blood pouring from my leg.  
"oh my god...are you okay?" he said, aghast.   
"uh, yeah. Just bleeding and puking my guts up" i tried not to sound mean. It sounded mean. Oops.  
He ignored my weak attempt at humour and sat down next to me.  
"i might be sick on you, be careful" i casually laughed at my own joke, and he joined in.  
"no, actually. Don't though" he confirmed as he stopped laughing.  
Another boy came into the front waiting area and passed Gerard the bandage, water and spare bucket. Gerard put the bucket near my feet just in case i threw up again, and started dabbing at my leg. I grit my teeth in pain, whilst breathing through my mouth.   
"i need a cigarette, like now" Gerard mumbled, his eyes in deep concentration on the blood on my leg.  
"me too" i sighed in agreement.  
"wait. Did you say what your name was?" the boy sat next to me asked, as the other boy who brought the bandage sat on the floor by us.  
"i'm Nova" i smiled at them. They seemed really kind.  
"i'm Frank, this is Gerard's brother Mikey." Frank told me, and pointed to Mikey.  
"hey, where's Ray?" Mikey asked Gerard, who was now wrapping up my leg.  
"i think he went home, i don't know man"   
"so, we're all dying to know" Gerard started, whilst tucking in the bandage, "tell us about yourself"  
"uh. You probably won't like it" i was nervous.  
"no it's okay. We get it, it's cool" Mikey said, ushering me to continue.  
"well...i'm 17....all i did at school was art, i was hoping to be an artist. A few years ago i met this guy and he got me...hooked. On cocaine. Um. I wear too much eyeliner and i have a crappy reputation. I have no friends, no job and i like punk rock. My parents don't know i have a drug problem, they think i'm perfectly normal. It's all a big secret. I'm pretty worthless to be honest, i'm just grateful Gerard found me, i genuinely could have died. See what happened was, i was in the basement with these guys and i got high, like actually off my head high. When i sobered up a little bit, one of them wanted me to take this random pill i've never seen before. It was probably just molly or something, but i said no. I started leaving, and he threw a broken glass bottle at me, it cut my leg, i ran away, puked, started blacking out and then Gerard showed up" i took a long breath and watched the air close up.  
No one said anything for a few seconds.  
"oh, and i play bass" i added. Mikey looked up at me.  
"sick, me too" he blurted out. There was a literal moment of mutual-bass-appreciation.   
"you've been through a lot, haven't you?" Gerard spoke up in a worried tone.  
"yeah" i broke down into tears, clawing at my eyes with the heels of my hands.  
"i just wanna be okay"  
"we can help you" Frank tried to comfort me, rubbing my shoulders.  
"its all gunna be okay in the morning. You'll see. I promise."


End file.
